Two Girls
by Konanae
Summary: Harry Potter's adventures, from the POV of two random schoolgirls. What was the rest of the school thinking and doing while Harry was battling evil? Chapter six now up! What's this about an Herbal Essence moment?
1. Introducing: Alcina & Lisette

_Author's Note: Hey! This is a story by two authoresses, RoseZephyr and MichiRini (me), who teamed up to write this story EXACTLY A YEAR AGO. That's right: we started writing this story exactly one year ago, so we decided to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the writing of this story by posting it online for random strangers to critique. Yes, we are celebrating our anniversary by letting random people we don't know tell us exactly what they think about our writing. So feel free to tell us what you think. Flames are welcome as long as you can back up your reason for flaming. Tell us WHY you hate our guts and HOW we can fix it, as well as the fact that you wish we were rotting in the deepest pits of that dark evil place below the floor. _

_This chapter is the only chapter that is going to have 2 parts, and that is so that you can see what the whole story is going to be like. There is no real story line for this fic, it's just about two random girls living at Hogwarts and giving an outsider's point of view into the strange occurrances during Harry's first few years of Hogwarts, and maybe even beyond, if RoseZephyr and I continue the fic for that long. (Although those chances are looking incredibly good right now!) It's a good fic to read when you're bored and have absolutely nothing to do. Especially since all of the MAJOR characters of the story (except for Fred and George) are only mentioned briefly, so it should be good for anyone looking to read something slightly different from your usual Harry Potter fanfiction. I guarantee that there will be a little of every type of genre: romance (it's coming, don't worry!), mystery, fantasy (of course!), and much more. So please read the story and enjoy! _**  
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**Chapter One, Part I: _Lisette_**

Wow! It's my first day at Hogwarts! I feel like a first year again. Before today, the only magic school I'd ever attended was Beauxbatons in the French Riviera, back when my family lived in France. However, last April, Papa's job transferred him to England; I was left in France at the time so that I could finish my second year.

So here I am, in the Hogwarts Express, looking for a place to sit. I suddenly miss my two best friends, Clarisse Cherie and Fleur Delacour. We would always sit together in classes and on the way to school at the beginning of the year—at Beauxbatons, we got to school on clouds bewitched to be able to carry ten of us at a time. I also miss our uniforms! They are so much lighter and less bulky than these black Hogwarts robes.

Well, in any case, I'm here now, and I'll make the best of it. Luckily, Mama is British, so I can speak English as well as I can French. As I think this, I walk down to nearly the end of the train, take a deep breath, and open a random compartment door.

**Chapter One, Part II: _Alcina_**

The compartment door slides open to reveal a girl about my age. Her clear, blue eyes sweep over the compartment and widen apologetically when they land on me.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the girl exclaims, swiping some of her long, black hair out of her face. "I didn't realize anyone was in here!"

I stop the girl before she can disappear. "Wait!" I call. I gesture to the otherwise empty compartment. "No one else is in here. You don't have to go."

The girl smiles thankfully, and I help her shove her trunk into the rack over our heads before she takes the seat next to me. "My name is Lisette," the girl introduces, a hint of a French accent sliding over the consonants in her speech. "I just transferred to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons."

I nod slightly at the girl, a smile playing on my lips. "I'm Alcina, no I'm not a Weasley, and this is my third year at Hogwarts."

Lisette looks confused. "What's a weasley?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

I gesture at my short, curly red hair. "'Weasley' is the family name of two of my best friends," I explain.

Right on cue, two identical, red-haired teenagers run into the door of the compartment, smashing against the glass. Fred and George Weasley smile and wave before peeling themselves off of the compartment door.

"Do you think Ickle Ronnie-kins will be fine on his own?" George asks his twin, Fred, once the two of them are safely in the compartment and seated across from Lisette and me.

Fred shushes his brother and whispers softly, "If you say his name too loud he'll hear you and come in to sit with us!"

George looks cautiously through the glass door of the compartment, kneeling down to hide himself from anyone who might be looking into our compartment. "Nah, he's sitting with some black-haired kid a few doors down," he announces before sitting back in the bench chair next to Fred. "So how's your summer been, sis?"

"I thought you said you _weren't_ a Weasley," Lisette asks me.

I smile at her. "Fred and George call me their sister," I explain. "I've got the red hair and we're best friends. Speaking of which…" I turn to face Fred and George. "Where's Lee?"

Fred and George flash identical evil smiles. "His pet tarantula somehow ended up floating down some blonde kid's pants," George explains.

"He's busy trying to convince the kid to reach in and get it out for him," Fred continues.

George picks up the story again. "But the kid's just swatting at the poor spider, yelling about how his father's _such_ an influential person at the Ministry…"

I burst into laughter. Lisette gives a small smile, as if she's not entirely sure that this is funny. "What did the kid do to deserve it?" I ask.

"Who said anything about _him_ deserving it?" Fred asks.

"We did it to get at Lee!" George continues.

The train lurches into motion. "This is Lisette," I introduce. "She's just transferred in from Beauxbatons."

"A newbie?" Fred asks.

George shrugs. "Fair game. Newbies are just as good as first-years." Fred and George high-five. "Does she know English?"

Lisette looks affronted. "I know English!" she insists. "My mother was British, and she taught me!" Lisette's French accent gets stronger the more she talks, as if she had been trying to put on a British accent but gave up. "And I would be in the third year of the Hogwarts educational system."

"Are you in a house yet?"

Lisette nods. "Ravenclaw."

"YES!" I give Lisette a high-five. "Another smart one!"

"Are you saying Gryffindors aren't smart?" Fred asks in a hurt voice.

"Of course not!" I assure him quickly. "I'm sure there's gotta be _one_ Gryffindor out there with an IQ over 12!"

"Well, why aren't you in Gryffindor, then?" George retorts.

"HEY!" I exclaim in mock offense. I try to maintain the charade for a bit longer, but eventually I fail and end up bursting into laughter, and this time Lisette joins in.

"Come on," I say, still gasping with laughter. "You gotta admit that there are certain stereotypes when it comes to which house you're put in. Gryffindors are the ones with hero complexes; Ravenclaws are the geniuses; Hufflepuffs are… well, they're just Hufflepuffs; and Slytherins are malevolent little snakies that hiss at you in an argument."

We talk more about the differences between the Hogwarts houses all the way to Hogwarts. Linette asks a few times why we seem to dislike the Slytherins so much, but all we tell her is to form her own decision when she actually meets some.

The whole trip I can't stop fidgeting. Hogwarts is my favorite place in the whole world! It's the only place that I can  
A) do magic  
B) morph

I don't know why the Ministry of Magic won't let me morph outside of Hogwarts. It's not like I'm actually _performing_ magic. I was born a metamorphmagus, for Merlin's sake! I should have the right to change my appearance whenever I want! But noooo, just because I live in a Muggle neighborhood, the Ministry won't let me change shape. They won't even let me change my _hair_. I tried explaining to them that Muggles change their hair all the time; they get haircuts and dye their hair and everything. But they won't listen to me! I even started a _petition_ against the Ministry's decision, but no one would sign it.

Thinking about my abilities, I give Fred and George an evil smile—to let them know what I'm about to do. I turn to Lisette.

"Yeah, I agree," I say, the evil grin replaced by an excited one. "I can't wait for the new Guardians of Time book to come out, either!" I shut my eyes hard and concentrate hard. I feel the short curls of my hair suddenly spoing, falling down to become straight. A pulling sensation tells me that my hair is growing, and when I open my eyes I see straight, lime green hair falling all the way to the floor.

Lisette jumps up from her seat. "What the…!" she exclaims while Fred and George and I fall on the floor laughing. While I laugh I continue to change my hair color: neon yellow—deep crimson—sky blue—macaroni yellow—black—and then back to my natural strawberry blonde. I try to put my hair completely back to normal but since Fred and George and I are lying on top of all of it, it's kind of hard.

It's then that the compartment door opens again, admitting a first-year girl with fluffy brown hair. "Have you seen a toad?" she asks hesitantly, seeing me and the two boys laughing on the floor while Lisette is watching us in confusion.


	2. Lisette

_Hey, MichiRini here. Sorry this took so long to post, but... believe me: life has been anything but smooth lately. Although RoseZephyr has been having a lovely time in India for the past six weeks (welcome back, Brindabot!!!!!! thanks so much for the shirt!!!!!! HUGS!!!!!!!!)!!!!! Anywho, here is the next chapter!! Please enjoy and review!_

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Chapter 2—Lisette

I turn to the girl at the compartment door. "A toad?" I respond, as Alcina and the boys are a bit busy at the moment. "No. No toads have dropped by here."

"Oh, okay," she says as she turns to leave. "A boy called Neville has lost one, so let him or me know if you find it."

"Right. Okay."

As soon as the door closes, I turn to Alcina, Fred, and George, all of whom are still lying on the floor laughing.

"So," I say in as frightening a tone as I can muster. "You're a Metamorphagus, are you?" I giggle at their shocked faces. "Why didn't you tell me? That's pretty cool!"

Fred-or George, I don't know-stands up weakly and sits down at his seat. "How do you know?" he demands. "It could just be a spell or something."

I look at him quizzically. "Of course she's a Metamorphagus. She had to close her eyes to transform, her hair changed suddenly instead of gradually, and none of you had your wands in sight."

Fred and George share a glance before saying simultaneously, "That one's a Ravenclaw, all right."

I laugh and pull Alcina into the seat next to me. As the other twin gets into _his_ seat, I whisper to Alcina. "Which one's Fred and which one's George? How on Earth can you tell the difference between those two?" Seeing Alcina's grin, I add hastily, "And tell me the truth, don't make fun of me about it quite yet."

Alcina sighs. "You're no fun," she grumbles. "George is the one who got up first, and Fred is the one sitting down now. Once you get to know them, the differences are obvious, but, if you look, Fred's hair is slightly longer than George's."

I look closely and find this to be the case. "Thanks," I whisper.

"Oy!" calls George. "What are you two girls whispering about? Don't you know what they say about secrets?"

"Oh, nothing," says Alcina quickly. "Just how ugly you two are."

"HEY!" the two yell again, as Alcina and I burst in laughter. The rest of the train ride passes much in the same manner, and, before we know, an announcement comes that we are almost at Hogwarts. Alcina and I have to leave the compartment so that the boys can change, and then they do the same for us. Finally, the train slows to a stop, and I start to feel the butterflies in my stomach again. Hogwarts! Well, at least I know three people already…but what if they're only being nice right now? I mean, Fred and George are in a different house so, from what I understand, we'll only see each other in classes or in free time. As for Alcina, surely she has other friends she'd rather sit with and talk to? But I don't have time to brood, as we have to get our trunks and such and fight our way out of the train. Once we're out, I look up and see Hogwarts for the first time. It is beautiful. A large castle, with turrets and windows, sitting picturesquely in front of a huge lake.

"_Mon Dieu,_" I murmur before blushing at using French. Fred, who hears me, just smiles at me, and we make our way towards a line of many carriages. It is then that I notice something wrong.

"Wait, Alcina," I say, tugging on the sleeve of her robe. "How're we going to get to the castle in those? There are no horses."

Alcina looks at Fred and George, who shrug. "I dunno," she says. "They just move by…magic, I guess."

"Oh…right."

We all get into a carriage, which does indeed start moving on its own. I can't help but stare out the window avidly at the grounds. "Your grounds are so big," I comment. "The Palace of Beauxbatons is huge, too, but our grounds are much smaller, because Beauxbatons is right on the ocean. It's beautiful, of course, but the idea that it's easier to sleep with the sound of the ocean is completely wrong. The noise kept me awake every night until I got used to it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, that's a huge myth."

Finally, we get to the castle and file inside to what Alcina tells me is the Great Hall. It's _huge!_ And absolutely gorgeous. The ceiling, just as _Hogwarts, a History_ promised, is enchanted to look like the sky outside. Fred and George leave us to go to the Gryffindor table.

"Come on, we have to go to the front to the Ravenclaw table. Stupid overachieving complexes…" Alcina mutters, dragging me to the frontmost table.

"Um, Alcina, you know…you don't have to sit with me, if you have, you know, other friends to sit with…" I rush to say.

She turns to look at me like I'm stupid. "Lisette, while the Ravenclaw girls are okay, most of the girls are AIRHEADS. The guys are cool, but they don't really care if I sit with them or not."

"Oh good," I say as we sit down.


	3. Alcina

_MichiRini here again!!!! OK this chapter is where things really get started, so please enjoy, and remember the magic button at the bottom of the page!!!!!_

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Chapter 3 – Alcina

I smile, remembering my first year at Hogwarts. It had been the time of my life, but at first everyone had made fun of my accent. Even the teachers had called on me a lot, just to hear the sharp vowel sounds of the American dialect. All of that changed when I became the best friend of Fred and George Weasley though…

My parents met in Long Island, New York; a state in northeastern America. My mom was a Muggle, but my dad was a wizard. He didn't tell my mom about his magical abilities until the night after the wedding; apparently his way of telling her was to transfigure Mom's kitten into a dolphin… while Mom was petting the kitten in her lap. Obviously she was mad at him for the duration of the honeymoon, but they managed to "solve their differences" and stay together. Although Mom didn't really know what to do with a magical toddler—my inherited magic became obvious when I threw a temper tantrum at the age of three, causing all of the furniture in the living room to levitate and bang into each other—but she and my dad both agreed that the best thing for me would be to send me to the best magical school when I was old enough to attend: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. So after I got my acceptance letter at the age of eleven, my parents sent me from their Georgia home to live with my cousin in Bristol, England.

I pay attention when the actual Sorting begins. Little Hannah Abbott is called, and the girl rises to sit on a three-legged stool. Professor McGonagall places the Sorting Hat onto the girl's head, but the hat falls down over the girl's eyes and ears. A few moments pass before—"HUFFLEPUFF!"

And the crowd goes wild. Hannah Abbott takes a seat at the Hufflepuff table, and all of the older students continue to clap after each and every one of the little, nervous eleven-year-olds are Sorted. It gets a bit annoying, but I don't get bored until Draco Malfoy is called to be Sorted.

I lay my head down on my hands with the full intention of going to sleep, but Lisette won't let me. She pokes me continuously until I am forced to sit up, glaring at her all the way through the Sorting, until one particular name catches my—and everyone else's—attention:

"Harry Potter!"

Everyone, even the Muggle-borns in the school, leans forward in anticipation. Lisette gives me a look of wonderment, and I shrug at her. I have no clue if this is really Harry Potter or not—no one can really tell until they get a sight of his forehead, which many people near the front are actually attempting to do—but until I find out I am resolved to remain skeptical; I don't want to let the celebrity fanatic in me out only to look like an idiot if this ordinary-looking kid turns out to be some look-alike who fooled the teachers. I'd rather be the one pointing and laughing at all of the poor fools who blindly accept this kid's identity, or the person shrugging her shoulders and pointing out that it was an easy mistake to make.

Harry Potter sits on the three-legged stool and Professor McGonagall places the hat on his head. I'll admit: a little part of me is hoping this kid, imposter or not, is going to be placed in Ravenclaw. It would be awesome to have even a look-alike Harry Potter in Ravenclaw. But this kid is taking too long to get Sorted! It's like he's arguing with the stupid hat or something, and the two can't agree! The palms of my hands are getting sweaty with all the time that this "Harry Potter" is taking! What is taking so long to put this kid into a house?

Finally, the Sorting Hat cries out that Harry Potter is to be placed in Gryffindor. I quell my disappointment quickly, but Lisette is making no such effort. She's talking to me about how cool it would have been if Harry had been Sorted into our house, how we could have made friends with him. It's only when Professor McGonagall calls out for the next first-year to come to the stool that Lisette stops talking to pay attention. I think if she had a quill, ink, and parchment Lisette would be taking notes on who is being Sorted into which house.

I _know_ she would be taking notes when Professor Dumbledore rises to speak after the Sorting finally ends with Ron, Fred and George's little brother, ending up in Gryffindor. She sits up eagerly in her seat, her eyes widening. I smile at her and pay attention too, although I would not be taking notes on this even if I did have the necessary items.

Even though it's no surprise to be told that the Forbidden Forrest is indeed forbidden—go figure—everyone is shocked when Dumbledore announces that the third floor corridor is closed. Why is it closed? That's where the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes are usually held! Where will those classes be held if the whole third floor is off-limits? Speaking of which… who is this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? We've gotten a new one every year. Who's this year's teacher?

I study the teachers seated at the staff table. The only person I don't recognize is a nervous-looking guy in a weird purple turban. He must be the new teacher. I point to each teacher while Dumbledore speaks, whispering to Lisette the names of each and what they teach.

Dumbledore ends his speech with his usual funny word of the day, and the food appears. I fill my plate with chicken, spaghetti, and white rice. I give Lisette an innocent smile when she stares at my unusual food choice, putting various veggies onto her plate. While everyone eats, talk at the Ravenclaw table turns to what everyone did over the summer vacations. Marietta's family apparently went to Austria over the summer; Lisette said she had just been going through all of the paperwork for her transfer to Hogwarts over the summer, and then she had taken a look at all of the things we would be learning this year by reading through all of our textbooks.

"My family went to China," Cho Chang said from a few seats down. "My dad wanted to take me to see where our ancestors lived, but people teased us because we have Irish accents!"

"Now you see how I feel!" I say loudly, getting everyone's attention. "You guys are constantly on me for being American. 'It's not _erbs,_ it's _herbs_, with an _h_!'" I emulate in a high-pitched voice. "'They're not called _boogers_, they're _bogies_!' Well you know what? I really don't care what you call those things inside your nose. All I care about is if you guys will let up on me. And you know what else?" Now everyone at the Ravenclaw table is sighing impatiently, except for Lisette, who is watching me with a mixture of interest and fear while my tone grows more aggressive. "America is so much better than Britain is! Because in America we don't make fun of people for having an unusual accent; we actually enjoy it when someone has an unusual accent! Send a guy from Australia into an American classroom and all of the girls will be all over him, trying to get him to talk to them! We are more accepting in America, and you British should take from our shining example and end this persecution! GOD BLESS AMERICA!" I look down to find myself standing on my chair, one arm extended with the hand pointing at the enchantedly sunny ceiling.

Suddenly bits of bread come flying at me as Ravenclaws from all around our table start throwing bits of rolls at me. I glare down at each and every one of them as I sit down next to a silently laughing Lisette. I glare at her too. "Think this is funny, French girl?" I ask. "Just wait 'till they learn you're from Beauxbatons; all of the boys will be trying to get you to tell them what the girls are like there, cuz it's rumored that all of the veela attend that school." I successfully turn Lisette's happy expression into one of shock and disgust.

"What?" Lisette asks. "I mean, sure we've got Fleur Delacour and her sister Gabrielle, but they are the only girls I know of who have any veela relations! How did that rumor get started?"

I shrug at her, cutting into my chicken. "I think it's just because the school is in France, '_le citee of love!_'" I put on a fake French accent for that last bit.

Suddenly Lisette lets loose with a long line of what I can only guess is French. Her expression remains one of shock; I'm guessing she's reproaching me for making fun of her native language or something, because there's a bit of anger in her eyes as well. She's also gesturing at my chicken, like it's done something against her. What does my chicken have anything to do with this?

When Lisette is finished rambling in what I hope is French, my eyes are wide and my eyebrows have risen just a bit. I open my mouth just a little, trying to say something, but then I think better of it. And then I think better of thinking better of what I wanted to say. I open my mouth and say the only French I know: "_Je ma pelle Alcina_." Translation: my name is Alcina.

Lisette begins to laugh. I can't help it; I laugh with her. When we're both done laughing, Lisette explains: she had been telling me that for someone who had just been preaching that Americans are more tolerant of foreign accents and cultures, I sure do generalize. She was also telling me that she was a vegetarian. Well, I guess that explains the chicken. And I replied to "Your chicken is against my religion," with "My name is Alcina."

I look at her with a determined expression on my face; I am not going to laugh when I get my revenge! I keep my face serious and say with all the integrity I have, "_Si me hubieras conocida bien, sabrías que estaba tratando a reírte._"

Now it is Lisette's turn to stare blankly. I let her stay that way while I take a bite of chicken, so that when she finally asks me what that meant I point to my mouth to indicate that I am chewing, and take a while to swallow my food. I know I shouldn't torture her like this, but she spoke French! This is revenge!

When I'm done chewing, I tell her matter-of-factly, "That was Spanish for 'If you knew me better, then you would know that I was trying to make you laugh.'"

Lisette nods her head, looking impressed. "You actually know Spanish?"

I smile and nod. "_Mi bisabuela vivía en Barcelona,_" I tell her. Translation: my great-grandmother lived in Barcelona. "And it's really fun because no one at Hogwarts knows any languages besides English and what they learn in Ancient Runes, so if I get mad at someone all I have to do to make them pay for whatever I'm mad at them for is only speak to them in Spanish!"

Lisette laughs at this, adding that she will try not to get me angry with her. In return I promise to try not to get her angry with me; I don't want another long line of French aimed at me! It took me forever to learn how to pronounce Lisette's name, and sometimes I still do it wrong!

Purposefully excluding Cho Chang and her gang (ha! That rhymes!) of giggling girlie girls (ooh, alliteration too; I'm so talented!), I turn back to Lisette from the white rice I had begun ingesting. "Hey, let's go over to Gryffindor table to sit with Fred and George," I say, jerking my head over at the rowdier table. Being the "brave" Gryffindors, the boys over there are infinitely more active than the boys at the Ravenclaw table. It's why they always beat us at Quidditch; most of our captain's strategy is to give the team members books on how to better the performance in their appropriate positions, and then try to emulate the moves they learn from them. I would join the team if I didn't prefer reading by nice warm fires to practicing Quidditch moves in rain and snow during the colder seasons. If I _didn't_ prefer those nice warm fires, though, I would join the team and teach that captain how to coach.

Lisette gives me a stern look. "We can't go sit with the Gryffindors!" she says emphatically. "We have to sit with our house! We're Ravenclaws! This is Ravenclaw table! They're Gryffindors! That's Gryffindor table!"

"Gee, I hadn't noticed," I say sarcastically, lifting one of my eyebrows slightly. "Come on, Lisette! You don't know anyone at this table, but over there you know Fred and George. And you _know_ you want to meet Harry Potter."

Lisette opens her mouth to protest, but I see her eyes slide to the back of the black-haired head of Harry Potter. I know she's itching to just look at his scar and ask him about his life since the night he saved the entire wizarding world by defeating You-Know-Who. Okay, maybe that last one is more what I want than what Lisette wants, but she probably wouldn't mind the idea either.

"Come on, Lisette!" I urge. "Let's go over and sit at the Gryffindor table! None of the teachers will notice."

Lisette looks worriedly up at the staff table, and then lowers her gaze back to me. "Have you done this before?" she asks, looking at me skeptically.

I smile confidently at her. "Yeah," I assure her. "Last year I spent almost every meal at the Gryffindor table. That's how some people started to think of me as another Weasley; last year Charlie was at school too, so with me, Fred, George, and Charlie all sitting together, we really did look like one group of siblings." I flick my hair. "Especially since I can change my appearance to match theirs, if I want to."

Lisette gives a nervous laugh. "Yeah, well, I can't change my appearance at will—not like you can, anyway—so I can't disguise myself if a teacher _does_ notice."

At that, I pull Lisette out of her seat and all the way over to the Gryffindor table. The fact that she's struggling against me doesn't do much for us when it comes to sneaking around, but eventually we make it over to Gryffindor table, where Fred and George scoot over to give me and Lisette some room next to them.

"Ron!" Fred hollers at his younger brother.

When Ron doesn't respond, George bellows, "RON!"

When Ron still doesn't look up from his conversation with Harry Potter, both twins howl, "_RON!_"

This time the red-haired Ron turns around, an annoyed expression on his face. Next to him, Harry Potter also looks our way, causing me and Lisette to smile and wave. Okay, so maybe fame _does_ have a minor grip on me. I'm not perfect!

"What is it?" Ron asks, annoyed.

Fred gives me a nudge. "This is Alcina," he introduces. "She's the friend we've been keeping secret from Mum."

Instantly Ron's face lights up. "The 'bad influence'?" he asks, a smile beginning on his face.

I punch Fred playfully; George is on Fred's other side, and too far away to reach. "I'm a bad influence, am I?" I ask, ignoring Lisette's emphatic nods.

George looks across his twin and smiles. "Now you see why we haven't invited you over to the Burrow during the holiday."

I give him an irritated look. "There you Britons go again with your weird lingo!" I exclaim. "It's not a _holiday_, it's a _vacation_. A _holiday_ is a religious day. Get it? Holy day? Holiday?" I jerk my right hand once at each twin with my last two questions.

"You know, we heard this speech when you were standing on your chair at Ravenclaw table." Fred and George smile at me, causing me to smile back reluctantly. I lose my frustration; it's difficult to stay angry at friends. I am a very difficult person to get _truly_ upset. I am easily frustrated, but I have only ever been _mad_ at two people in my life.

I look up to see Professor Snape making his way towards the Gryffindor table. I don't point out his approach to Lisette, in case he is just passing innocently by. However, I close I my eyes and quickly grow my hair out to elbow-length, turning it midnight black. I give my eyes an Asian slant and make my skin change to a paler, more olive color. My eyes go from hazel to blue. My entire face changes to become more of a circular shape, and the length of my waist shrinks what is probably an inch.

When Professor Snape asks which two naughty Ravenclaws have dared to sit at the Gryffindor table, it's Lisette Blanc and Cho Chang that look frightfully up at him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir!" I say before Lisette can comment on my new appearance. I make sure to give my voice an Irish lilt, once again thankful that I grew up in the multicultural United States of America. "I just came over to tell Fred and George that if I catch them picking on a first-year again—even if it is their younger brother—I will be writing to their mother to let her know what hooligans she is raising." I look over at Lisette, who is giving me a stunned look. With my eyes I try to plead with her to look more nonchalant. "Lisette Blanc, a new student to Hogwarts, came with me because I didn't want to go over to a table where I don't know anyone."

Professor Snape looks closely at me, and then over at the Ravenclaw table. Seeing another Cho Chang at the other table, he looks angrily down at me and says, "Ms. Saorirse, if you would kindly return to your true form _and_ your appropriate table, I promise I will only give you detentions every night for three months as punishment for your academic dishonesty."

I put a surprised look on my face, looking back at the Ravenclaw table. Seeing the real Cho chatting with Marietta, I stand angrily and stomp my way back to the Ravenclaw table. When I reach Cho, I smack her across the face.

"How dare you take my form again, Alcina?" I ask, tears in my eyes. "I thought we'd settled this last year! You promised you wouldn't use my body to get out of trouble any more! How dare you?" I slap Cho again. Cho looks stunned at me, rubbing her cheek with a confused look on her face. Idiot.

Fortunately, this charade manages to fool the even bigger idiot I have for a Potions professor. Snape goes back to the staff table, leaving the two Chos to sort things out in a cat fight. As soon as he leaves I return to my own form.

"Thanks a lot, Cho!" I say, confusing Cho even more. "I really am sorry I slapped you, but I owe you one for letting me use your body. Thanks so much!" Before Cho can say anything else, I go back to my original seat, where Lisette is waiting for me.

"That wasn't nice," she says angrily, not even waiting for me to sit down. "You shouldn't have done that!"

I look at Lisette with a small smile. "You know, I never lied to Snape." I pile more spaghetti on my plate. "I _was_ going to tell Fred and George that I was going to tell their mother if they picked on any first-years, but I never said when I would tell Mrs. Weasley. Therefore I can wait thirty or more years and not have to tell her. Also: I really did promise Cho last year that I wouldn't use her body again. But at the time, I wasn't Alcina, was I? I was Cho. And for all Cho would know if she saw another one of her sitting across the Great Hall, I would be using her body. She would get mad and slap me and go running off to calm down."

Lisette looks at me angrily. I can tell she really wants to find something to say that would prove that I am 100 guilty of a crime, but she can't. Finally, she mumbles, "It still wasn't nice!" and goes back to her vegetables.

Dinner ends and I show Lisette to the Ravenclaw common room. We climb the stairs just outside the Great Hall, all the way up to the seventh floor. _Seven is the most powerfully magical number,_ my brain informs me uselessly. _Thanks, brain,_ I tell it. _You are most welcome!_ my brain replies jovially. And then it decides to go on vacation, leaving a _Be back when you stop talking to yourself_ sign buried in my medulla oblongata. Well, don't I sound smart?

Lisette and I come to a finely polished suit of armor at the very end of the seventh floor corridor, the side opposite that of Gryffindor tower. The suit of armor remains motionless for a second before opening its visor, revealing empty air.

"What have you done this time?" the suit of armor asks me. "You're late. What have you and those two Gryffindors been doing?"

I give the suit of armor a hurt look, innocently scuffing the castle floor with the toe of my right foot. "Honestly, now," I saw in an innocent voice. "What makes you think I've been up to something with Fred and George? I have a new friend now. Lisette's just transferred from Beauxbatons and I had to show her around the castle." I grin wickedly at the empty space where a face should be, if someone was actually inside the suit of armor. "But I didn't take too long to not ask a prefect for the password: supercalifragilistic expialidocious."

The suit of armor sighs, disappointed; me and the suit of armor have an understanding. I have to polish his armor every time I come back to the common room late, and he doesn't tell anyone about my breaking curfew. But just because we have an understanding doesn't mean that the suit doesn't like me; one time I forgot the password and, in a fit of anger, told the suit that if it didn't let me in the common room I would put a sealing charm to keep its visor permanently shut. Needless to say, the suit took that comment personally, and made me sleep out in the corridor that night. We haven't been friends since.

The suit of armor steps forward and off to the side, bowing me and Lisette into a long passageway that leads to the Ravenclaw tower.

"Nice password, by the way!" I yell back at the suit of armor before he can fully step in front of the passage. I hear the suit mumble a reply but I can't tell what it's said.

I show Lisette around the Ravenclaw common room, which is decorated in blue and white (check for verification). There is a gigantic fireplace taking up the whole corner of the two far walls, and there is always a fire crackling in the grate. I show Lisette up to our dormitories, up in the actual tower part. It's a long climb up some very narrow stairs, but the view once you reach the top is worth it: you can see the lake, usually reflecting the night sky when the giant squid isn't waving its tentacles over the water, and the Forbidden Forest looks serene in the moonlight. The best view of the sunset can be seen from this tower. In the daytime, you can look down on all of the students walking outside and feel like you're a goddess, watching over each and every one of the mortals below.

Lisette and I change into our pajamas in the bathroom attached to the girls' dormitories and climb into bed, talking about the differences between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. I fall asleep when Lisette finally agrees that Hogwarts does seem like a better school than her old French one.


	4. Lisette's POV

Chapter 4—Lisette

I am awakened suddenly by the sound of my bed hangings ripping apart; bright sunlight pours onto my bed as I bolt upright, shielding my eyes with my arm. My blankets are torn off of me violently, and I'm hit on the head with what feels like a pillow.

"ALCINA!" I shriek.

"Why, good morning, Lisette."

"WHY IN MERLIN'S NAME DID YOU DO THAT?!?!?!?"

"Keep it down, Lisette," moans one of our dormmates.

"Is Alcina trying to kill you?" asks another.

"_Maybe!!!_"

"Nuh-uh," says Alcina innocently. "Come on, it's the first day of school; you'll thank me later. Do you want to run the risk of being late to your _first ever Hogwarts breakfast_, where we get our schedules?"

"What? Oh my God, I forgot!" I bolt out of bed, grab my uniform, and dash into the bathroom. I come out fifteen minutes late, dressed in my school uniform, with my wet curly hair up in a bun. Yes, curly; my hair is naturally curly, but I usually use a hair straightener or, when at school, a simple straightening spell.

"That was quick," Alcina grins. "It's only 7:30, after all."

I scowl at her. "Then why'd you wake me up?"

"Don't get used to it," Alcina says as we go down to the Common Room. "I just always get up bright and early on the first day of school."

"Lucky. I can never get to sleep the night before the first day."

We go through the passageway that leads us to the knight, who leaps aside and bows us into the corridor.

"Thank you," I say, which makes the suit of armor to raise its—er—hand in a salute.

"Suck up."

Alcina and I talk all the way down to the Great Hall, whose ceiling is a gray and cloudy as the sky outside.

"Cheerful," I murmur as I sit down and help myself to a couple of small strawberry pancakes.

"This is typical British weather," Alcina informs me as she piles some eggs onto her plate. "I don't know what you're used to in France, but this weather is what you'll see almost daily now."

"Oh, joy."

Just as Alcina said, schedules soon come down the table. I excitedly grab and read mine.

_Lisette Kari Blanc_

_Monday: Arithmancy 9:00_

_Transfiguration 11:10_

_Lunch 1:15_

_Ancient Runes 2:25_

"Cool!" I say. "We start electives today."

"Yeah," Alcina responds. "What've you got today?"

"Arithmancy, Transfiguration, lunch, and Runes. You?"

"Same, but with Muggle Studies first."

"Every class but first period? Great. But I'm going to get lost going to Arithmancy and Transfiguration on my own, I just know it."

"Don't worry about it," she says. "Muggle Studies and Arithmancy are on the same floor, and after first class, we can meet up by the tapestry of Toras the Transfigured."

"Of what?" I ask, bewildered.

"Some ancient wizard who was transfigured into a waffle by Morgan le Fay."

"Isn't that just slightly anachronistic?"

"She was an expert at Divination."

"Right. What time is it?"

Alcina checks her watch. "8:45; we should get going."

We leave the emptying Great Hall and start for the fourth floor, parting in front of a tapestry of showing a tall dark-haired witch with one purple eye and one green eye brandishing her wand at a man quickly turning into a waffle. I can't help but raise an eyebrow, but decide not to comment.

"The Arithmancy room is to the left, down that corridor," Alcina points out. "And Muggle Studies is here, just to the right of the tapestry."

"'Kay. See you later."

We part, and I head down the left corridor, searching for the classroom. Ten minutes later, I'm still looking.

"Merlin's beard! Where is that stupid classroom?"

"Lost?"

I turn around to see a handsome boy grinning at me. He's tall, with dark hair and gray eyes, and looks to be around my age (A/N: -Swoon- Ha ha...).

"Yes. Can you tell me where I can find the Arithmancy classroom?"

"Arithmancy? I've got that class first, too, so just follow me."

"Thanks," I say as I start off after him. "I have no sense of direction."

He laughs. "Nah, it took me fifteen minutes to find the room this morning."

"So you're a third year, too?"

"Yep."

"Cool."

I follow him up to a framed painting of a large oak door, which I have passed several times already. He, to my surprise, grabs the door handle and pushes it in to reveal an almost full classroom full of chattering students.

"Oh, wow, thanks," I say, feeling just slightly stupid. We climb into the classroom before I ask, "Er…I know this is sort of a weird question, but could I sit with you? I mean," I rush on to say. "I've just transferred here, and I only know, like, three people, and none of them are in this class, and I-"

"Take a breath," he laughs. "You don't have to ask."

"Right."

I sit down next to him on the table where he's already dumped his bag, which is the second row from the front.

"So…" I say, turning to him. "I've just realized something."

"What?"

"I don't know your name."

"Cedric Diggory," he holds out a hand for me to shake.

"Lisette Blanc." I take his hand, slightly amused.

"French?"

"Just transferred from Beauxbatons."

"Ah. Liking England?"

"The people seem nice…"

"It's a start."

The bell rings, and a young woman--no older than 25--walks to the front of the room. She has short blue hair cut into a bob and deep green eyes. I say her hair is blue, but it's not solid blue--it consists of multiple shades and highlights of blue and even purple.

"Welcome to Arithmancy," she says. "I am Professor Vector. Arithmancy deals with the magic of numbers and numerical relationships. For instance, the number one signifies a new beginning or start. The number seven, as you may know, is the most powerfully magic number, as it contains three, the number of wholeness, two for duality, and five, the sacred union of two and three. You don't need to take notes," she adds, sounding amused as she sees my quickly moving quill; I blush and put it down. "Today," she continues. "we will explore some of the most basic concepts behind Arithmancy. We will be working in pairs, so please take a moment to find a partner now."

Before I can look around the room for a partner--somehow I'm always the person who ends up lacking one--I feel someone prod my arm and turn to see Cedric mouthing 'partner?' at me. I grin gratefully and nod.

"Does everyone have a partner?" Professor Vector asks the class.

"Yes," everyone calls.

"Good. I hope you chose someone you like, because this person will be your partner all year. Consider him or her your 'Arithmancy buddy'," she says with a smile. "Today I'd like for all of you to read chapter one in your textbooks together and then answer the questions. When you are done with that, I'd like you to set your answer sheet on fire and throw it into the trash can."

"_What???_"

Professor Vector grinned. "Just making sure you all were awake. Your real assignment is to read chapter one, and then explain how your favorite number and the qualities associated with it compare to your personality. You have all class period, and we will discuss your results in class the next time we meet."

Cedric and I get started on the assignment. After taking turns reading parts of chapter one aloud (kept the reading interesting; turns out Mr. Hufflepuff has quite a sense of humor…and I'm fairly gullible…), we start discussing and researching our numbers. My favorite number is six, while his is three. We have fun doing the research and, when we're done, just sit around and talk for the rest of the period. Professor Vector doesn't seem to mind; she actually joined in our conversation a few times ("You know, I've never found the Weird Sisters as talented as Serena Tallatabe"). Judging by all of the evil looks I'm being sent by all of the girls in the class, it appears Cedric is quite the popular guy. Well, I'm not too surprised. I mean, he's handsome, considerate, kind, and friendly. He's also totally unassuming. A real gentleman.

Soon the bell rings, and it's time to go. As I pack up my things, I can't help but smile at the fact that I've made yet another friend.

"Bye," I say to Cedric as I start out the portrait hole for the tapestry.

"Hey, wait up, I'm almost done," he says in a slightly irritated voice.

"Oh, fine…slowpoke."

"Yeah, yeah," he says as we finally leave the classroom. "Besides, we both know you need my help."

"For what?"

"D'you know how to get to your next class?"

"I'm meeting up with a friend who does."

"Where?"

"By the tapestry of Toras the Transfigured."

"Ah. So…d'you know the way there?"

"Yes!" I say defensively. "I…um…well…you see…I can totally figure it out!"

He laughs. "Told you so."

* * *

Hey, RoseZephyr here! -gasp- Yes, I'm actually putting up a chapter!! ;;

Well, anyway, it's the long-awaited first day of school! Lisette and Cedric...no, not romantically! Honestly!

Anyway, only Alcina and Lisette belong to us!


	5. Alcina's POV

Chapter 5 – Alcina

Okay, I had decided to take Muggle Studies because, having a Muggle mother, I had thought it would be an easy class. But this is ridiculous!

The teacher actually told the class, not even introducing himself, that we could do anything we wanted, as long as it had something to do with Muggles.

Most girls, given such a vague assignment, would talk about boys and the latest hair-care potion. But what do I do? I take out a quill, ink, and parchment and begin to write a chapter for a story I've been working on for a few years. I work on my story for a few moments, until a long shadow stretches over the parchment: the teacher.

"And what does this have to do with Muggles?" the professor asks in a curious voice.

I continue writing while I reply lightly, "I'm writing a story."

"That's got nothing to do with Muggles!" some poor fool in Slytherin robes points out.

I round on the kid immediately, throwing my quill back down on my desk. "Don't you think Muggles write, too?" I demand. "In America, we've got a whole amendment in our constitution giving us a freedom of the press, meaning we can write pretty much anything we want and no one can do anything about it! And that's the _Muggle_ constitution. Imagine how the _wizarding_ constitution is."

The Slytherin snorts. "Come on; there's gotta be some fine print in there somewhere. A hidden clause or something."

I think for a moment before responding. "Well, you can't write treason; treason is the only crime outlined specifically in the U.S. Constitution."

"And how does that apply to you here in _England_?"

"It applies to me anywhere, because I am still an American citizen!"

"But you have to obey England's laws while you reside here. Only important people have diplomatic immunity."

"But I could still hire an American lawyer if I get in trouble. American lawyers are better than British lawyers."

"I beg to differ."

"You don't have to beg; you've already differed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Now I've got the Slytherin upset. His arms are crossed angrily over his chest, and he's leaning back in his chair.

I raise an eyebrow at the kid, crossing my own arms to match his ferocity. "I don't know what it's supposed to mean. Why don't you go write an essay on it?"

"Because this is a Muggle Studies class, not foreign politics!" the Slytherin reminds me, looking triumphant.

I tilt my head slightly to the side, speaking in a sweetly evil tone. "So one could only write such an essay in a class on foreign politics?"

"What?" Now I've confused the kid. "What does that have to do with—?"

"And foreign policy, not being taught in any magical schools, is a Muggle subject, yes?"

"Huh? Sure, I think…"

"So you're saying that Muggles write essays?"

"Wait, when did I say that?"

"So if Muggles write essays, then writing can be classified as a Muggle activity." I turn back to my parchment and take up my quill to continue writing the chapter, giving myself a pat on the back for steering the conversation the way I wanted it to go.

I don't get very far in my story before that same Slytherin points at my chest. "So how do you justify being a witch _and_ Christian?" he asks, making me realize that he is pointing at the silver cross I always wear over my robes. "Isn't it, like, a sin to have magical abilities?"

I dip my head in a small nod, never stopping my writing. "I don't justify it," I answer slowly.

"But I thought—I thought—_won't you at least pay attention to me for one second?!_"

I look up from my chapter to see the boy glaring at me. Looking back down at my parchment, I dip my quill into the well of orange ink and continue writing. "I _am_ paying attention to you," I tell the Slytherin boy. "I've _been_ paying attention to you. Ever heard of _multitasking?_" I give the boy a hard stare before I realize that he's not going to give up on this.

I sigh, giving in to his nonverbal demand for an answer. "There's no way to justify being both a witch and Christian," I tell him. Before the smug smirk can fully form on his face, though, I continue: "The Bible says that any supernatural powers—magic—come from the devil, and to accept those powers is to do the devil's work, which is an über-sin. However, God is a very forgiving deity—I'm sure you know all about Jesus, celebrating Christmas and all—and the Bible says that if you pray for forgiveness, God will forgive you for pretty much anything."

The Slytherin looks like he might debate me about this, but stops himself. Instead, he asks, "So… you pray for forgiveness for using powers you inherited?"

I nod, happy that he's getting the concept so easily. "Every night," I reply, finishing off my chapter with a flourish. "Now read this for me and tell me what you think." I hand the role of parchment over to the boy, but yank it back before he can read it. "What's your name?" I ask.

The Slytherin smiles and answers, "Maverick Potter."

I feel my eyebrows rise as far as they could ever go. "_Potter?_" I ask, making sure I heard him correctly. "As in, Harry Potter?"

Maverick rolls his eyes. "Yeah, don't you know? Harry's my second cousin; we're great pals." Seeing my stunned expression, Maverick bursts into laughter. "I'm _kidding_. Geez, you'd think _someone_ would realize that the last name 'Potter' isn't restricted to famous people."

I smile guiltily, being one of those people who immediately associate "Potter" with the new first-year at Hogwarts. "I'm Alcina Saorirse." I hand over my chapter for Maverick to read, explaining the overall plot of the whole story and answering questions as he goes on.

Normally I wouldn't be so friendly with a Slytherin. I mean, they're usually annoying little snakies that hiss at you in an argument! But this kid—Maverick—hasn't really challenged anything I've said, like most Slytherins do. All he's done is ask questions. We did get into that small debate, but I won in the end, so everything's okay in my book. Besides: he's the only one in this class who's shown any interest in a friendship. If there's ever a class project where we have to pair up, it could be useful to have him as a friend, so I don't end up alone or paired with someone who would rather be working with someone like Cedric Diggory than with me…

Thinking about Cedric Diggory just gets me mad. He's the perfect guy! He's popular, intelligent, funny, smart, polite, athletic, attractive, even _chivalrous!_ Nearly every girl in the school has a crush on him. Nearly every girl… except me. I find it difficult to believe that someone can be _that_ perfect. He's got to have a fault! No one is perfect! So since first year, I have made it my mission to find out what Diggory's fault is. I'm not going to exploit it—that would be mean!—but I just want to know. Otherwise the guy is just not human.

The bell tolls, signaling the end of the class. Maverick hands me my chapter, saying it's very good and he wants to read more later. I smile and thank him, folding the parchment in half and sticking it in the cover of my book—the one I read for fun.

Maverick and I leave the classroom together, talking about plot twists that could work for my story. Maverick has some really awesome insights into what the villain's mind could be like… maybe it's from hanging around with too many Slytherins or something. For a Slytherin, though, Maverick doesn't seem all that bad.

I say good-bye to Maverick at the statue of Sabrina the Suck-up—a bronze statue of a teenage witch kissing the rear end of what looks like a former Hogwarts teacher—and continue towards the tapestry of Toras the Transfigured to meet up with Lisette, but she's not there yet. I lean against the tapestry to wait for her, knowing she won't be able to find her way to Transfiguration without help.

When Lisette does finally arrive, she's got a new friend with her. When I see who this friend is, I hike up my face in the fakest smile in the world and, turning to Lisette, ask slowly, "So, who's your friend?"

"We've already met," Cedric Diggory says before Lisette can follow through with the unnecessary introductions. "Nice to see you again, Alcina."

"It's wonderful to see you again, too, Cedric…"

* * *

_MichiRini: OMG it's the introduction of Maverick!! I love Maverick!! He's got to be my favorite character in this whole fic, and I know RoseZephyr (although apparently she's changing her penname again, so she's not going to be called that for long) agrees. He is teh awesome, trust us. And later on... omg I can't stop laughing because of what happens later, but I can't say it because it would spoil everything!! Argh I'm not good at this author's note stuff, am I? _

_ Anywho, that whole thing with "How do you justify being Christian and a witch"? That actually happened in real life. Except "witch" was replaced with "Republican". Yeah, this guy actually had the nerve to sit down across from me in my Spanish class and ask, "Hey, how do you justify being both a Republican AND Christian?"!!!!! The guy and I actually got to be good friends, but he went away to college last year and I have no clue where he is anymore... so anyway, at the risk of offending RoseZephyr for not consulting her first, this chapter is dedicated to two people: "Chelupe" and "Pretty Pretty Princess". XD_

_NOW GO REVIEW BEFORE I WHACK YOU FURIOUSLY WITH A RABID PARAKEET!!!!!!  
_


	6. Del punto de vista de Lisette

Chapter 6-Lisette

I look around at my two friends, confused. What just happened? Cedric seems normal, but Alcina is glaring at the guy as though he's just insulted her and not said something polite. Cedric turns to go.

"Well, I'll see you around, Lisette," he says as he walks away.

"Bye!" I call after him.

Alcina waits until he is out of earshot before exploding. "Do you know who that is????"

"Um," I say, bemused. "Cedric Diggory?"

"Yes!"

"…So?"

"So," Alcina explains as we set off down the corridor to Transfiguration. "HE'S the reason why Ravenclaw lost the Quidditch Cup last year!"

"What? How?"

"Because, we actually had a good team last year! We had the chance of winning! In fact, we _did_ win--every match. Finally, we had to go up against Hufflepuff in the semifinals. We were up by 50 points when Diggory snatched the Snitch just before Brogan could--"

"Wait! Who?" I ask, growing more confused by the moment.

"Everett Brogan; he was a seventh year, he's already graduated. Anyway, so he and Brogan were both speeding towards it, but Diggory got it! Because of him, we lost! If we'd won, we could've gone on against Gryffindor; whoever won that match would've been able to go against Slytherin in the final match!"

"So you're mad at him because you missed out on a match to be able to go the final match?"

"YES! That and he's perfect! No one can be that freakin' perfect! I've been trying to find his flaw since first year!" Her eyes light up. "But now that you're friends…"

I get what she's about to say before she finishes her sentence. "_No_." I say firmly. "I am NOT scouting Cedric out for you!"

"I don't want you to scout him out! Just tell me what his fault is!"

"I don't know! And I wouldn't tell you if I did!"

"Come on, Lisette! Aren't you curious how a person can be so faultless?"

"Well…" I falter.

"Exactly."

We finally find our way to the Transfiguration room and sit down in the third row from the front, and see that the teacher is a very strict looking witch with dark hair up in a tight bun.

"Well, well, would you look at that, Fred?"

Alcina and I turn to see Fred and George grinning at us.

"It looks like we have Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws this year, George."

"What a shame. They're such boring people, always in the libraries, stu-"

"Hey!" Alcina says. "Shut up, you prats, we've been in the same Transfiguration class for the past two years!"

"Oh, look, that one's cheeky."

Fred and George sit down next to Alcina, and we're soon joined by a few girls whom Fred and George introduce as Angelina and Alicia. Just then the bell rings, and the teacher--who introduces herself for my sake as Professor McGonagall--starts lecturing.

She starts off by talking to us about general human transfiguration, which I jot down almost verbatim in purple ink. Then, without any warning, she suddenly turns into a cat! Turning back with a round of applause from our class--it _was_ impressive--she tells us about Animagi.

"Animagi are wizards who can turn into a certain animal at will," she tells us, looking at us sternly. "Becoming an Animagus is no small feat, and a person who does has to register with the Ministry of Magic immediately."

I grin slightly guiltily. _Well,_ I console myself, _it _is _legal in France…_

After more lecturing about Animagi, it's finally time for lunch. Fred, George, Alicia, Angelina, Alcina, and I walk out to lunch together. While Alcina chats with Fred and George--planning evil pranks, no doubt--Alicia and Angelina interrogate me.

"So, what's France like?" Alicia asks eagerly.

"Well, I mean it's a very pretty place, with lots of sunshine and ocean, and _wonderful_ food. The people are really great, too, and-"

"Do you play Quidditch?"

"Um…" I say to Angelina. "No, actually. But at Beauxbatons we had a great team, and-"

"Why don't you play?" Wow, now even Fred and George are interested.

"Well…" I blush. "I'm afraid of heights, actually. I mean, I can fly if I _have_ to, but-"

"_Afraid of heights?_ What is there to bloody afraid of?"

"Is it a British thing to not even let people finish their sentences?" I snap.

"Yeah! In America at least we let people _finish_ before we bite their heads off!" Alcina quips.

I shoot her a glance before saying, "For your information, I'm afraid of falling off a bloody broomstick."

"What are the boys like?" Alicia asks with a giggle.

"What kind of a question is that?!?"

Alicia shrugs, "Just asking."

We all chat right up to the Great Hall, where we have to separate to go to our Houses' tables. Before I sit down at the table, I pull out my bun, shaking my head to get all my hair out.

"Corrige," I say, pointing my wand at my hair, which instantly turns straight. I sit down at the table, next to Alcina, who laughs about me having an "Herbal Essences" moment, causing me to laugh right back, to her surprise.

"Muggle-born," I explain as I help myself to some baked potato.

"Really? That's cool. My mom's a Muggle, and my dad's a wizard."

"Oh? Well, it must not've been _too_ much of a shock when they found out you were a witch. My parents apparently totally freaked when they found out that Aimée was one."

"Who?"

"Oh, my older sister; she's already out of Beauxbatons and works for the French Ministry of Magic. It's funny, because we hardly look anything alike."

"Well, what's she look like?"

"Aimée has chin-length wavy hair. It's naturally black, but she's dyed it to be dark chocolate brown, with light brown streaks. She's also tall, more like dad, and has brown eyes. She's 28."

"Your mom doesn't care that she dyed her hair?"

"Not really," I shrug. "Aimée and I are perfectly free to colour our hair if we want to."

"No fair!"

"So what do your parents do?"

"My mom owns a--Muggle--embroidery shop, and my dad works at Gringotts."

We talk about our families some more, leading us to books, leading us to many other topics, until it's time to leave for Ancient Runes. Ancient Runes turns out to be on one of the top floors, with a stupid wooden door that has to be asked nicely to open, which Alcina and I realize when she reaches for the door handle.

"HEY! What d'you think you're doin'?"

Alcina and I jump, only to see that the door handle has sprouted a pair of small eyes.

"Um…trying to get into the classroom?" I offer.

"An' did you think you'd be able to get through without my permission?"

"We need your permission?" Alcina asks with unflattering shock.

"Yes, you need my permission!" the door says indignantly. "How do you think you'll get in the classroom?"

"I don't know, maybe by _opening the door_?" Alcina says sarcastically.

I sigh. "Would you _please_ open, oh omnipotent door of great mercy and power?" I ask, clasping my hands.

The door immediately swings open, revealing the Ancient Runes classroom. It's a big room, with a floor to ceiling window for one wall! The view of the grounds is beautiful! The Runes teacher, a young wizard, ushers us in.

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_Hey! Starlit iridescence (RoseZephyr) here! For those of you wondering why you got two emails for this chapter...eh heh...slight hiccup in communications...let's just say this chapter is updated for certain spoilers we didn't know at the time? Or something?_

_Insert disclaimer here_


	7. Del punto de vista de Alcina

Chapter 7 – Alcina

"Alcina, come on, get up!"

_No._

"Come one, Alcina, we only have five more minutes before breakfast starts in the Great Hall!"

_That's three more than I need._

"Alcina, if you don't get up right now, I am going to pour water into your face."

I finally decide to acknowledge Lisette's entreaties, opening my eyes until the open window reminds me just how bright sunlight is. "You wouldn't dare," I croak, rubbing my burning eyes with one hand while pulling the blankets up over my head with the other.

"Wouldn't I?"

I peek out of the blankets—out the side opposite the one that faces the window—to see Lisette twirling her wand menacingly through her fingers. The wand drops with a clatter, Lisette's threatening charade dissipated by the clumsy move, and I burrow myself once again in the warm blankets with a soft chuckle.

"Alright then," I hear Lisette say, her voice exaggerating the exasperation she must be feeling, "I'll just go to breakfast on my own then… see you later, Alcina…"

I stick my hand out of the blankets to wave good-bye. "Say hi to Fred and George for me."

For a moment there's nothing but silence, and then—

"_Aguamenti!_"

Water pours over me, soaking through the blankets immediately to immerse my head and torso in cold, cold, _cold_ water. I shoot up, ripping the blankets off of my head while I gasp for breath.

"What was that for?" I demand when I finally catch my breath enough for me to be able to talk.

Lisette looks at me as if _I_ am the crazy one. "I warned you I was going to do it!"

"But I didn't think you would actually follow through with it!"

Lisette starts to laugh, doubling over and holding her head in one hand while sounds of mirth spouts from her mouth.

Glowering, I untangle myself from the wet sheets to stumble my frozen limbs over to my trunk. I grab some jeans and a random shirt from the organized mess inside and then jump back on the bed to change out of my wet PJ's, shutting the curtains around the bed for privacy. The whole time, I try to ignore Lisette's continuing laughter.

"It really wasn't all that funny!" I insist hotly while trying to turn my shirt around so I'm wearing it correctly.

Still laughing, Lisette gasps, "The look on your face was hilarious!"

Fully dressed, I open the curtains with a scowl that quickly turns into laughter. "What did my face look like?"

Lisette's eyes go wide and she opens her mouth in a surprised sort of stutter, giving her the appearance of a fish. Did I really look like that?

Squinching my eyes shut, I use my metamorphmagus powers to straighten my hair, thus making it easier to pull into my customary ponytail. When Lisette sees the wet curls bounce downwards into pencil-straight lines, she shivers.

"It's creepy when you do that."

"What makes it so different from the way you use that spell to straighten _your_ hair?" I ask.

"That's different. That spell only allows me to make my hair straighter, whereas you can randomly change appearance to look like whatever—and whomever—you want!"

I nod, smiling. "True. But imagine if I was an Animagus; then, instead of changing my hair or eyes, I could change my _species!_ I think _that_ would be a bit creepier than me straightening my hair a bit."

Why is Lisette's face so red? I was just trying to make a joke! Are jokes against her religion, like my chicken was? NOTE TO SELF: research Hinduism. ASAP.

What do I already know about Hinduism that I can use to make Lisette less… _red?_ Thanks to that first night, I know that Hindu people are vegetarian. And wasn't there this one guy named Ghandi who was Hindu?

I put my hand on Lisette's shoulder, looking into her face seriously. "Ghandi loves you," I tell her solemnly.

What did I do now? Why does Lisette look so confused? I take my hand off of her shoulder to continue typing my hair up, but meanwhile Lisette looks like she is trying to hold in some more laughter.

Finally, she asks, "Where did _that_ come from?" She's on the verge of laughter, I know it!

I explain my reasoning to the amused Lisette, the two of us walking to the Great Hall for breakfast once my hair is tied and naturally curly, and my school robes are pulled on over my clothes.

About halfway to the Great Hall, two hands poke me on either side of my waist, causing me to jump and make a noise that can only be described as a squeak.

"_FRED!_" I shriek when I see the culprit.

Fred smiles, revealing dimples—about the only difference between the Weasley twins is that Fred has dimples when he smiles. "Yes, wet one?" Fred asks, playfully yanking on my dripping ponytail.

"Where's George?"

A squeak from Lisette answers my question, except her squeak is more of a "Gah!" than the normal "Ah!" It makes me want to poke her again, but I refrain when Fred interrupts:

"¿Cómo era su primer día?"

I gape at him. "Where did you learn Spanish?" I demand. "That's _my_ thing! It's the only thing I can hold over your head in an argument!"

George shrugs. "We thought it would be good for when we open our joke shop, so we ordered this Muggle thing that we play in Dad's Ford Anglia, and it teaches us basic Spanish."

I roll my eyes. "You don't seriously think your mother would let you own a joke shop for a career, do you?" No even expecting an answer, I start walking again. Lisette follows me, looking back as if she does expect a response.

I hate it when I'm wrong. Especially when the response I wasn't expecting comes in a chorus of twin voices: "No more than your mother would let you go out with Professor Roberts!"

I stop dead in my tracks. Out of the corner of my eye I can see that Lisette has also stopped, a stunned expression on her face.

I turn around, coming back to glare at Fred and George. It would be a lot easier if they were one person, so I could just glare at them without having to turn my head.

"I'm sorry," I apologize in as happy a voice as I can manage. "I don't think I heard you correctly: were you just implying that I have a crush on the Ancient Runes teacher?"

"Why, do you?" Fred and George asked, shock written all over their faces.

I scowl. "No, I don't have a crush on Professor Roberts. I just really like his Australian accent."

"He's so _old!_" Lisette points out.

I shake my head, arguing, "He can't be _that_ old, but he is too old for either of us. But," I turn back to Fred and George, "why would you think either of us had a crush on Professor Roberts?"

Fred shrugs, bored with the subject already. "We just heard all of the Gryffindor girls giggling and shrieking about his shiny blue eyes and sexy accent."

I gag in disgust. "His accent is not _sexy!_" I exclaim, horrified that thirteen-year-old girls are using such a word to describe such an über-awesome accent. "It's just awesome! You guys have nifty accents too, but you don't see me giggling and shrieking over you!"

"Or does she…?" George asked, his eyes flicking over to Lisette, who shakes her head.

"She doesn't giggle or shriek, sorry."

All four of us start walking again, talking about the classes we'd had on the first day. Fred and George whine and complain that they share nearly all of their classes with the Slytherins.

"I have Muggle Studies with the Slytherins," I contribute to this discussion.

"That's amazing," George comments, looking genuinely shocked. "Not many people take Muggle Studies in the first place, but most Slytherins think anyone who associates with Muggles or half-bloods or Muggle-borns is a blood traitor."

"Well, I'm not so sure about this one guy," I say, thinking of Maverick. "He's a Slytherin, and he seems pretty nice to me."

"A _Slytherin?_" Fred and George exclaim. "_Nice?_"

"Are you feeling okay?" Fred asks, looking worried.

"I'll be better when we get to the Great Hall so I can finish my homework with some food in my stomach," I mutter, picking up the pace.

Fred stops me. "If you're hungry, have this."

I stop to eyeball the cauldron cake that Fred is offering me on an open palm, closely inspecting the smile on his face. "What did you put in it?" I ask warily.

Fred feigns innocence, taking a step back with widened eyes. "What makes you think we put something in it? Alcina, I'm hurt!"

I grab the cauldron cake and shove it into Fred's own mouth. "For one thing," I begin lightly, "you only use the word 'we' if George is somehow involved."

"Dude!" Lisette exclaims, the American word sounding odd coming out of her mouth in a French accent. She comes over to pop some of the bubbles that have started to come out of Fred's ears.

"For another thing," I continue, popping a nearby bubble off-handedly, "you _never_ carry spare food around!"

"Wait…" Lisette stops popping bubbles to look worriedly over at George. "So what was in that chocolate frog you gave me last night?"

"Oh, that?" George asks, unconcerned. "Don't worry, it didn't work. It was supposed to make you grow a horse tail in the middle of the night, which is why we had to sneak up on you today: to see if you had grown a tail."

"That was _YOU?_" Lisette screeches angrily. "HOW DARE YOU? THAT WAS HORRIBLE! I THOUGHT SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH MY—_HOW COULD YOU?_"

Since I've known them, I have seen Fred and George grin mischievously into the angry face of Professor McGonagall. I've watched them skip along down the corridor with Filch, the angry old man threatening to hand them by their thumbs the whole way to the headmaster's office. I've even hear stories of the two of them facing down their mother in the middle of one of her rages—although I'm not sure how true those stories are, considering I heard them from Fred and George themselves. And yet even though Fred and George have faced such rages with comical nonchalance—even enjoyment from time to time—it seems that they are unable to withstand the intensity of Lisette's anger. I think they're actually _cowering_… in _fear_…

* * *

_Sorry, no Maverick in this chapter!! This is MichiRini, btw. Me encanta Maverick! I can't wait until you all get to see more of him! One person has already guessed as to part of the hilarity my co-writer and I find in Maverick, as well as in Alcina. And for anyone who knows what it is but isn't reviewing (you know who you are, but I hope you know that I know who you are too, and I know where you live your so-called life, and if you do not hit that light blue button then I want you to know that millions of tiny lil wee beasties are going to die tonight. That's right: if you don't review, I am going to peel the skin off of my fingertip, murdering millions of innocent skin cells!! And then I shall hold you responsible for those millions of deaths. You will have murdered all of those poor lil wee beasties. Oh yes: feel the shame.), THAT WAS COMPLETELY ACCIDENTAL!!!!!!!!! starlit iridescence and I did not plan to have that in this story at all, but yes, apparently it's true... I'm partially happy and partially angry that our characters have their own agendas that we don't know anything about..._

_You know, reading over that last paragraph, I realized something: how do you, the reader, really know that this is a team made up of Michi Rini and starlit iridescence? For all you guys know, we could be two sides of a single person living out the rest of their lonely life writing fanfiction in some cell of a local insane asylum, too afflicted with severe schitzophrenia to be allowed into the real world ever again... I mean, of course you could go check to make sure that MichiRini and starlit iridescence actually did exist, but that doesn't proove that they are who we are. _

_Anywho, I need to go to sleep before my Ambien makes me fall asleep on the couch again, because the last time that happened my mom had come down to wake me up for school the next day and the television, which was still turned on (it's on right now) had turned to Commedy Central to record the Colbert Report at midnight, but had stayed on and so my mom awoke me to the... INTERESTING... sights and sounds of "Girls Gone Wild". That raised a lot of questions from my mom... and from myself... Anywho, before I go on AGAIN about the possibility of my being a schitzophrenic, good night, and please enjoy and REVIEW!!!!!!_


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